The Wives of David Rossi
by vanillafluffy
Summary: In a discussion between Hotch and Rossi, Rossi said they had a total of four failed marriages between them. Hotch has never mentioned a previous marriage, so I concluded that Rossi is the one who's really racked up a score. Here's my take on the subject.
1. Til Death Do Us Part

'**Til Death Do Us Part**

Of David Rossi's three marriages, the first one lasted the longest. On paper, he and Donna were a great couple: both Italian, New Yorkers (him from Brooklyn, her from Long Island), from traditional families. They were both accounting majors at CUNY, and when they added up their common denominators, marriage made sense. They were together most of the time anyway, they'd have freedom from their families and not have to worry about flaky roommates, and they could help each other study.

Graduation two years later was when the roads started to diverge. Donna found a good entry-level job with a major investment house. Dave surprised everyone when he was hired by the FBI. His family had been planning for him to join the payroll department of Uncle Tony's dry cleaning business (eight stores in the greater metropolitan area), but Donna stood by him. She had visions of him being Elliot Ness.

Rossi wasn't on a power trip. He felt comfortable in the starched-white-shirt environment of the Bureau. He was one square among many, and his methodical nature made investigation something he could see himself doing for the rest of his life without ever being bored--the same could not be said for a career in payroll.

Little by little, Donna spent more time at the office, and he spent more time away from home--in the field, going back and forth to Quantico--although he was still technically based in New York. The Sunday ritual of bagels and coffee became uneasy; there was too much privileged info on both sides of the divide. Her Fortune 500 clients and his Top Ten Most Wanted killers stalked their living room, and pages of the _New York Times_ rustled like leaves in an urban jungle.

The divorce was final just shy of their tenth anniversary. There was no acrimony, just a mutual feeling that it was time to finish what they'd started. They signed the papers and went out for one last lunch together. Rossi already had an option on a place in Virginia. Donna was keeping their apartment, too busy to bother relocating. "I'm sorry it didn't work," she said over her veal. "Really, I'm married to my job."

She proved herself right; Rossi got occasional notes from Donna, updates on her promotions, her prestigious corner office. He was happy for her, until the day when every news channel showed the Towers in flames, when he wondered bleakly if, in the end, she'd regretted that marriage, too..


	2. Fiddling While Rome Burns

**Fiddling While Rome Burns**

Rossi's marriage to Audrey was a result of bringing his work home. There had been several murders in Baltimore, various street performers who frequented the tourist district. In the course of the investigation, he'd questioned Audrey, a violinist. With self-deprecating humor, she told him about how she'd graduated from Julliard and followed her then-boyfriend to Baltimore, where he'd dumped her. Now she was sharing an efficiency apartment with two airline hostesses she barely knew, busking for her share of the rent.

She was intelligent, talented, and she brought out his protective side. Suddenly, the case was no longer just about catching a killer, it was about keeping Audrey safe. Even after the unsub was apprehended, David found himself wanting to spend time with her. To his surprise, he felt romantic--he and Donna had had a functional relationship, but Audrey was lace, not pin-stripes. After nine months of weekend visits, he proposed.

Things settled into a quiet routine. Audrey gave up playing her violin on street corners and got a job at a local boutique. He noticed that she didn't play often when he was around, but assumed that she practiced while he was at work, which he was, more than ever.

On their first anniversary, he took her to a classic Italian restaurant he'd found, with candles in Chianti bottles and a trio of strolling musicians to serenade them. They talked about starting a family, which would've meant looking into school districts and finding a house. Over coffee and cannolis, Audrey asked the fiddler if she could try his instrument for a moment, and proceeded to bring the house down with a heartfelt rendition of Brahms' Hungarian Dance #5.

As it happened, it was also the anniversary of the leader of a prestigious chamber music group, and before their coffee was cold, he'd picked up their check and invited the delighted Audrey to audition for the orchestra. On their subsequent anniversary, she was touring, and David was busy in Birmingham. The Behavioral Analysis Unit was gaining in prominence, and he was glad she was safe and happy while he was doing what had to be done.

There was no third anniversary; Audrey confessed that there was someone else, someone she worked with, and what hurt Rossi most was the fact that it didn't bother him. Intellectually, he knew anger would be a normal reaction--he hadn't been unfaithful to her--but they'd seen more of each other when they were dating than they had since they were married, and he couldn't find it in his heart to blame her. It was a long time since they had made beautiful music together.


	3. UnTrue Crime

**(Un)True Crime**

Although it galled him to admit it, David Rossi's third wife was a mid-life crisis, plain and simple. He'd been single for three years after his divorce from Audrey, when Brooke approached him in a bookstore. "I've read your book!" she enthused. "It was wonderful!"

His initial wariness at her pick-up line was overcome when she explained that her father had been a crime reporter--retired now, living in Arizona--and she'd grown up on tales of mayhem around the kitchen table. She courted him, and the fact that a beautiful woman fifteen years his junior was breathless in his presence made him walk a little taller.

Brooke was fascinated by his job. Donna had merely shown polite interest in what he did. Audrey, although she cared for him, had been horrified by what he dealt with every day. He answered her questions--she always had questions. She wanted to know how evidence pointed to an unsub, what did he notice at a crime scene--the smells, the sounds…he wondered if her father had really shared such unsavory information with a young girl.

They had a simple ceremony at City Hall, no guests in attendance. Rossi felt good that his wife didn't need to work, and he encouraged her when she wanted to take college classes. He suppressed as insecure the thought that she might meet someone nearer her own age.

Three years in, he could tell Brooke was being secretive about something, but when the truth emerged, it wasn't anything he'd expected. She'd written a book--the first he knew of it was after she'd signed a contract and gotten an advance check--and it was the worst kind of sensational pot-boiler imaginable. It made the BAU sound like an asylum where the lunatics were in charge, and the betrayal brought him to his senses.

If Rossi hadn't been thinking with his dick, he would've run a background check a lot sooner. She'd been fired from several workplaces for petty theft--none had pressed charges; one man, not knowing that he was Brooke's husband, said she'd offered sexual favors to keep her job. When he used his investigating skills to uncover her family background, it revealed her as a pathological liar. Far from being a crime reporter, her father installed ceramic tile in Delaware. He'd learned the trade in prison, where he'd also benefitted from the in-house literacy program.

He'd sued for divorced, and got an injunction to deny her the right to use his name in conjunction with her book. Once she was out of his life, David Rossi decided it might not be such a bad thing to be married to his career.


End file.
